


Memories of Battle; Moments of Change

by ddelusionall



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Based off a dream I had once, Heterosexual Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV First Person, Restitution, Science Fiction, Space Battles, Temporary Amnesia, Violence, War, don't take this too seriously please, hidden identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: I thought my life was pretty simple. A little rough, considering my neighborhood, my job ... my ability to kick ass. But then two guys come into my life and remind me of who I really am.
Relationships: Jung Yunho/Original Female Character(s), Shim Changmin/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Memories of Battle

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

I don’t live in the best neighborhood. Downtown, city streets, drug dealers, prostitutes. That sort of thing. But the rent is cheap. It isn’t unusual to see weird characters hanging about, but the two Asian guys dressed in black on black speedboards catch my attention.

Beyond just looking as I walk by them, I ignore them. The shorter one watches at me. I can tell, even though they both wear sunglasses. By the time I get up to my fourth floor apartment and get dinner ready, I’ve forgotten about them.

But I see them again the next day, and the next, and the next.

A couple weeks later, I’m walking with Karisa. She giggles suddenly, and I follow her gaze to the two Asians.

“Catie, you didn’t tell me you had new neighbors.”

“I don’t know if they are. They’ve been hanging out for a couple weeks.”

“The short one is really cute.”

I glance over at them. This is the first time one of them hasn’t worn the sunglasses. And Karisa is right. The short one is really cute. Hair falls into his brown eyes, and he brushes it away with a slim hand. Just before the sunglasses drop back into place, he meets my eyes. One corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. The taller one misses the exchange. His face is rounder, features wider, but he’s still incredibly attractive.

“I’ve never really noticed,” I say, still trying to break my eyes away from the shorter one.

After that I notice more details. One is taller than the other, but only just. The taller one has hair cropped close to his head. Both of them have bodies sculpted of muscles. They’ve made the other residents nervous, and the drug dealers and prostitutes walk on the opposite side of the street now. They stay on their speedboards, always at the ready. They’re constantly scanning the area.

The weirdest thing. They stiffen whenever they notice me. Like I’m going to jump them or something.

Or someone might jump you.

Someone tried. I took care of him pretty quickly. I didn’t take kung fu for six years for nothing. More than one person saw me break the guy’s knee and back kick him in the face. People leave you alone when they see something like that.

But now they have me on edge? What is their deal? And now, whenever I see them, I stiffen and look around. They definitely focus on me.

One day, as I leave my apartment, I pass the taller one on the stairs. He nods his head, but says nothing. I’ve never seen them in the building before, but I guess they live here. Why else are they ALWAYS around? The shorter one is just outside the building. He sees me coming and opens the door for me.

“Thanks,” I say automatically.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles.

Sweet Jesus, what a smile. I smile back.

After that, I always smile at them. Only the shorter one returns it on a consistent basis. And he’s the only one that talks to me. I notice that he says hello only when the taller guy isn’t there.

Somehow, I’ve let Karisa convince me to go out. And I mean, go out. “Get dressed up, get a bit tipsy, and dance with the hopes of getting laid.” Karisa’s exact words. I promise her that I’ll dress up and dance, but I have no desire to drink or get laid. I’m a few steps from the building when I hear a footfall behind me. I spin, ready for a fight, and the shorter one jumps back a step.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Are you following me?”

He smiles and jerks his head toward the building. We’re only just past the bottom step.

“Can’t blame a girl for being cautious,” I mutter.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

His accent is soft, but I can’t pinpoint the planet. He’s definitely not from Dahoeth. I stand there, fully conscious of my little black dress and heels. He’s only ever seen me in pants and t-shirts. This is the closest we’ve ever been to each other. He’s just a couple inches taller than I am. His shoulders look broader and his arms larger. Probably just the shadow.

He steps closer, and my breath catches, but he moves past me. He whistles suddenly, and a cab pulls up to the curb.

“Looking like that, you shouldn’t be walking,” he says.

I try to take offense, but he’s right. And I don’t have the money for a taxi.

“Take her wherever she wants to go,” he says as he hands the cab driver a bill. He opens the door for me. I really want to protest, really really want to protest, but he smiles and I graciously thank him.

“Be careful,” he says and shuts the door.

I take a deep breath and tell the cabbie where I planned to meet Karisa. It isn’t far and when we stop, I get handed change, enough to pay for all my drinks tonight, for really anything I want to. How much did that guy give him? I stick it into a concealed pocket on the side of my dress.

I haven’t relaxed in a long time, so I dance and dance and dance. It doesn’t matter who I dance with though. Shorter One’s smile is pervading my thoughts. Karisa meets a nice looking guy and stumbles out with him at about midnight. I follow, because there’s no way I’m going to be alone in a bar. Feeling guilty about spending the money, I flag down a cab and tell him my address.

Disappointment shoots through me as we pull up and I see neither of the Asian guys. I’m so used to seeing them there, that for the first time, I don’t feel safe. I scurry to the door and enter the code. Everything seems more sinister, darker, colder. I fumble with my key in the lock. I can’t breathe. Just have to be home. I’ll be safe at home.

Such delusions.

As soon as the door shuts, a strong arm wraps around me, pinning my arms. A firm hand clamps over my mouth. I freeze for a moment, and then bite the hand and back-kick at the knee. There’s an oof, but the hand doesn’t move, and the hold doesn’t lessen. I’m gearing up for another attack when a voice I recognize whispers, “Calm down. I won’t hurt you.”

There’s movement to the left, but in the dark, all I can see is a silhouette. I know I can take both of them if need be. I relax, lean against his body.

“Good. Thank you. I think you broke my knee.” There’s humor in his voice this time.  
He moves his hand, and I take a deep breath. “Not the first one.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yunho,” the other voice says. His voice is huskier, deeper, and nothing like the warmth from Yunho.

He ignores the warning and says, “It’s very important that you go into your room, change, go through your nightly routine and just pretend we aren’t here.”

“Why?”

“Someone is watching you.”

“Who?”

“As soon as you’re in bed, I’ll come and explain. I’m going to let you go. Count to three and then turn the light on.”

His arm loosens, his body moves away. His hand lingers on my elbow for a moment. I count to three and flip the light on. There’s no one there. I resist the urge to look for them. I can feel them. I think briefly of calling the cops, but I don’t think I’d get even halfway through dialing before they stopped me. Sometimes it’s just easier to do what crazy people who break into your apartment say.

Change into pajamas, eat a piece of bread with peanut butter, wash my face, brush my teeth. I turn the lamp on in my room and go through the rest of the place turning out lights. I read for only a few minutes, make a show of getting comfortable and then turn off the lamp.

Almost immediately, a weight settles on the other side of the bed. My breathing increases when he lies down. But he doesn’t touch me. I can’t tell if the other one is here or not.

“You’re being incredibly calm about all of this,” he whispers.

I don’t reply.

“We’ve been watching you, Alma,”

"That’s not my name.”

“Sure, it is. Oh, I know you go by Catie now, but that’s an alias.”

“What?”

“Just let me explain, okay?”

“Sure, crazy Asian guy. Go for it. Is this like a bedtime story?”

He stifles laughter. “If it makes you feel better. Your name is Alma. You’re one of our best fighters. Unfortunately, you’re rather good at your job, and now KelJae wants you dead.”

“KelJae?”

“Yep, the bad lady. Leader of a group of guerillas that are trying to overthrow the government. The assassination attempts on your life were increasing. There were three in one week before you were hidden.”

“Let me guess. Erased my memory, kept my abilities, hid me here and now you really need me and it’s time for me to go back.”

“Almost.”

“Look, Yunho.” I roll on my side toward him, and forget what I was saying. He’s close, on his side as well. I can just see him in the dim light coming in the half closed window. It’s never completely dark when you live in the city. Half of his face is in shadow. My eyes follow the dark line from just under his double eyelid, over the crest of his nose, and to his lips. I’m still looking at them when he smiles.  
I clear my throat and look back at his eyes. “You do realize that I don’t believe this.”  
He shrugs and rolls on his back. He puts his hands behind his head. The light highlights the curve of muscle along one arm.

“So who are ‘we’?” I ask. “You said I’m one of your best fighters.”

“The ShinKi.”

ShinKi is a planet about three light years from Dahoeth. Every now and then, the news reports something about the war that seems to be constantly marring that world.

“Where did you learn to fight?” he asks.

“I took lessons for six years.”

“What were the lessons like?”

I draw a blank for a moment, but then little bits of images come. Feet flying, hands slashing, but there are many people in front of me, to the side, more people than would be in a kung fu class. We’re all dressed in brown. The image turns, and I see the taller one, in my memory. Two rows ahead of me.

“Max,” I whisper. A sharp pain stabs at my eye. I can’t help but cry out, and Yunho’s hand is over my mouth.

“Yunho?”

“She remembered something.”

The pain subsides, drops to a dull ache, and I push Yunho’s hand from my mouth. I can feel the other guy’s presence in the room, though I can’t pinpoint his location.

“Anytime you remember something, you’ll get that stab of pain until you’ve recalled enough.”

“Yeah, then I don’t think I want to remember anything else. That hurt.”

“What do you remember?” the taller guy, Max, asks. He’s in the far corner, away from windows, away from light.

“You,” I whisper. “Training corps. You were ahead of me two notches.”

“Not for long. You were two notches ahead of me within a few weeks. You don’t remember Yunho.”

I look over at him. He’s smiling again.

“No, should I though? I don’t feel like I should.”

“You have never met.”

“And how long have we known each other.”

“Long.”

I look over at the corner. Try as I might, I can’t remember anything else. “More details please. I can’t remember just looking at you.”

“We were playmates, just before our town was—“

Pain laces through my head again as smoke fills my nostrils, gray clouds cover my face. People run, scream. I slip in blood. I am scooped up and dropped amongst other bodies, other children. A boy holds me. I somehow know that Max has never held me since.

Again, the pain fades. A cool towel presses against my forehead. Heat from Yunho’s body radiates down my side. Why is Max, a childhood friend, not doing this?

“The invasion?” Max asks.

I nod. “Is that what that was?”

“Yes, the ShinKin guerillas didn’t leave much alive, but a few of us were saved by some quick thinking adults.”

“So who is watching me?”

“We have a few spies in KelJae’s army and we were given the information that your whereabouts had been revealed. An impossibility since only I, Yunho and one other knew of it. The other, we found dead, tortured. Yunho and I came as soon as we could get here. As to who it is specifically, we’re not sure yet.”

“So why the sudden revelation of who you are. I was perfectly content with you two just randomly being outside my building.”

“We realized that we were probably scaring the watcher away.”

“No kidding. There hasn’t been a shooting around here since you guys got here. It’s been great for the crime rate.”

Yunho laughs. “We decided it’d be safer to tell you and get you back home where we can protect you.”

“Three assassination attempts in one week? That’s protecting me?”

“She has a point.”

“We’re following orders,” Max says. “We need you anyway.”

“Right. The best fighter thing. Do I at least get a good night’s sleep before we go?”

“We’re not going now. You need your memory back. And we need to see if we can catch whoever was sent to kill you.”

I look over at Max in the corner. “I remember you being a lot less serious than you are now.”

Silence.

Yunho shifts a bit closer to me. “His best friend’s memory was wiped and she was shipped to some hellhole three light years away. He’s been under a bit of stress.”

I know that’s not the whole story, but I can’t remember.

“So, do you believe us?” Yunho asks.

“I guess. It’s a bit crazy, and if I wasn’t exhausted, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Probably. Now, the plan is this. We would really appreciate it if you’d quit your job tomorrow. Once you start remembering things, you’ll be in no condition to work anyway. I’ll stay up here with you, but Max is going to patrol around, be a little more discreet about it, and see if he can flush out the assassin.”

“Please try to sleep,” Max says. “If you remember while you’re dreaming, the pain should be less.”

I don’t see Max move, but I suddenly know that he’s not there. I wait for Yunho to get up. Our legs are pressed together from hip to knee.

“Well?” I demand.

He chuckles. “Max said the pain should be less, not that it will. If you scream, I have to either wake you up, or keep you quiet, so I’m staying right here.”

Oh, hell. I roll away, curse myself for regretting the lack of body contact, and try to relax. It’s been a long time since I shared a bed with a man.

I do sleep, but not for long moments, and not very well. The times I wake are full of pain and cool towels and whispered reassurances. I’m conscious of things again when my alarm goes off. The warmth around me shifts, and the alarm silences. I burrow back into the body. I don’t realize I’m smelling the black shirt clutched in my hands until there’s chuckling above me.

I freeze. How long have I been curled around him like an over zealous puppy? I move away from him. Now that I’m aware, bits of the night flash around my mind. Lots of pain, but also lots of caresses, lots of comfort and soft words and strong arms, and holy shit, he kissed my head at least once.

But now I remember his name. Or at least that Max had mentioned him.

I remember a lot of things now. KelJae took over the guerillas six years ago. Of course, her first order of business was to destroy the Regency, just like all the others. We are and have always been better equipped. The rebels really don’t stand a chance. It’s going to be a matter of destroying their leader, but before we can do it, they kill their own leader and someone else takes over. Then everything changes. Fighting tactics, their spies, their headquarters. Sometimes they’re better equipped. Most of the time they’re not.

I hadn’t agreed with the idea of going into hiding. Only Max was able to persuade me.

Max. We really had been friends since childhood, but as we went through training, he grew cold and distant. I could still get him to smile every now and then, and I cherished each one, but even those few moments disappeared. When I needed his comfort, he wasn’t there. Someone else was, someone hardened by war and deaths. I can still see his smile though. I still have it. I hope there is someone in these worlds that can give it back to him.

“You need to call your work,” Yunho says.

He reaches around me, and I stiffen. Having only fuzzy memories of being so close to him is a bit disconcerting. He grabs my communicator, and I call the security place, tell them I’m quitting, and hang up on their sputtering. I’ve worked there for three years.

Three years.

“What’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” I ask.

“Same shit—”

“—smaller shovel,” I finish with a smile. Max’s line. “Is KelJae gaining more power?”

“Only in the number of followers. She’s targeted the younger ones. Teens, early twenties, those that are tired of their parents’ way of life.”

“Our way of life.”

“Yeah.”

“So why did you come to our side?”

His face hardens, his nostrils flare, his breath speeds up. He rises suddenly, closes all the blinds and starts hanging black sheets over the windows.

“KelJae and I … well, we were close. But that bitch. Someone told her that my best friend had been saying how he wanted out. I went to her room one night, and Joongie was there.” He voice hitches. Shoulders shaking. “Alive, but not for much longer. He begged me to help him. And KelJae just laughed. I watched him die.”  
I wait until he’s done hanging the sheets. “I’m sorry.”

He leaves the bedroom. I stay in bed thinking. Did Max tell me that? No, just that I could trust him. And yeah, after something like that I can trust him. A few minutes later, he returns carrying two cups of tea.

“What else do you remember?” he asks.

“You. Well, your name. And that Max said I could trust you.”

“You can.”

“I know.”

He smiles, but it’s a different smile. Lost in his thoughts. He sips his tea. I forgot about mine.

“There are still some gaps, but I’m pretty sure I remember the important stuff.”

“Any more pain?”

“Just a stubborn ache in the back of my head.”

“I doubt that will go away. We are dealing with KelJae, after all. She’s been a headache for the last six years.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four, same as you and Max.”

“And I’ve been here for three years.”

“Just about.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I just can’t remember why putting me here was a good idea.”

He laughs. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t. Max was worried about you though. That’s why he went along with it. Do you remember the last assassination attempt?”

“No.”

“Max says you were in the hospital for two weeks after a decibel bomb went off less than two feet from you.”

Pain in my head again. I remember waking up in the hospital. And oh, yeah, there was pain, everywhere. White fuzz gathers around my head, the rooms swim, both in my memory and in real life. As everything clears and the pain subsides, I find myself again wrapped in Yunho’s arms. But I don’t move away. I can’t.

“Try to sleep,” he whispers, then with a soft laugh, he adds, “Try not to. I drugged your tea. You didn’t sleep well last night.”

I fight it for as long as I can. I hate being drugged.

“Just sleep.” His arms tighten around me as we settle to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he doesn’t. He stays with me, cooks for me, brings me tea. Just when I think I can get out of bed, another memory hits and I collapse. I always wake up in his arms. By day three, the episodes are far enough apart that I can leave the room. We watch TV, play poker and waste the day away talking and laughing.

I only see Max once. On the fourth day, he comes in rather quietly, and catches the two of us curled up on the couch watching daytime soaps. His eyes narrow, and he asks Yunho if he can please see him outside.

When Yunho returns, I ask about it.

He grins and shakes his head. “Just Max being Max.”

We return to our position on the couch.

But now, it’s different. I settle against his side. He drapes his arm around me. But I’m not there for comfort, and there had been only one shot of pain early in the morning.

How many times have I done this just because I want to?

That scares me. I don’t remember wanting to be with a man. I have been, but before, there were battles to plan, fights to win and hostages to question. And while I remember doing all of those, they’re still not part of me, like I’m remembering someone else’s memories. They’re far away. Things that don’t matter right this minute.

All that really matters is the way Yunho’s hair falls in his eyes. The way he slinks from the bathroom after a shower, a towel around his waist. The way he smiles at me when he catches me watching him.

I definitely don’t remember blushing before.

\-----

There is no pain the fifth day, and I sleep that night without waking. The sixth night, I get ready for bed, same routine, but instead of waiting for the light to go out, Yunho climbs under the covers before me.

I meet his eyes. There is no reason for him to be here. I hadn’t had any bursts of pain since yesterday. I know it. I know that he knows it. And yet, he lays there, smiling at me. I know that if I tell him to sleep on the couch, he will.

I turn off the lamp.

Tense energy radiates off me. He shifts, not closer, but just like he needed to be a bit more comfortable. His breathing steadies, but he’s not asleep yet. With a huff, I flop on my back. My foot hits his, and then settles around his ankle.

“Do you need me to brew some of my special tea?” he whispers.

“No,” I snap and roll back to my side.

His hands touch my shoulders, and I jerk away.

“You need to relax,” he says, and he starts kneading the muscles.

So not a good idea, but I have no power to stop him, and I honestly don’t want to. I roll to my stomach. He moves closer. His leg is touching mine. My foot wraps around his ankle again. I didn’t do it. I swear. Stupid foot.

His steady kneading turns to softer touches, still nothing below my shoulders. I press my face into my pillow to stifle a moan.

“Better?” he whispers. His breath tickles my ear.

“If I say no will you keep doing it?”

“No.” He settles next to me, on his side, body pressed completely against mine. His hand moves and rubs soft circles on my lower back.

Not a good idea. Without thinking, I push up and lay on my side, my back facing him. I can’t breathe as our bodies mold together. So familiar from the last few nights, but so completely different. His hand settles around my stomach. Again, our feet entwine.

His breath is soft on my neck.

I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. This time, he does fall asleep. I move carefully onto my back. His arm stays around me, fingers settling on my side. It’s dark enough that I can’t really see him, but I’ve looked at him enough to turn the shadows into his face. His eyes are fluttering in sleep, his mouth is slightly open.

I wonder if I would like him if we met elsewhere. Being enclosed all day with no one else around has to be a factor in these feelings, but would it have mattered? The guy is witty, incredibly intelligent, and god, his body is fabulous. I think back to those years that don’t yet belong to me. There were always men around who were funny, intelligent and strong. But I was missing. I was different. I didn’t see them as anything but soldiers.

Except for Xiah.

I shut my eyes and hiss. Yunho is immediately awake, hovering over me, asking if I’m alright.

But I see only Xiah’s face. He was adorable. Not a soldier, but a runner. He brought us messages. We saw each other rarely, but each time, he had a smile for me, a joke, a song. He used to dance for me. I was cold to him for a long time, but he wore me down. He was my first man. The first to share my bed. The first I saw as something more than a tool.

His body was found just inside our borders.

“Alma, Alma.” Yunho’s voice sounds desperate. But I can’t answer him. I’m crying. I can’t remember the last time I cried. His body moves away, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. Plead. Don’t go. Please. Don’t.

He presses around me, arms holding me close, his head on mine. A soft kiss to my hair. Hands rubbing my back.

My nights with Xiah play, some on fast forward, others slow motion. All of it accompanied by excruciating pain. The day I saw his body, it felt like someone had pulled the world out from under me. But I ordered him to be buried, brushed off Max’s questions, and continued to plan a counter attack.  
I know that I’m saying his name, over and over again.

Yunho says nothing that I hear, but the shush and fall of his voice is enough. My gasps echo through the bedroom. As I calm down, the noises make sense.

“It’s alright, Alma, whatever you’re seeing. Remember, it happened a long time ago. You’re here, safe, with me. There’s no one here. No armies, no war, no bodies. Just me and you. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to—”

“What about you?” I ask, startling him into silence. I look up at him. “What happens on the day they bring me your body? I can’t—”

I break off with a sob, burying my face into his chest and hold him as close as I can, legs wrapped together, everything pressed together. His arms tighten. There’s another kiss to my head, but he doesn’t lie. He doesn’t say that nothing will happen to him, that he’ll be alright.

My crying subsides again. His hands rub soft circles on my back and through my hair.

“I’ll go make you tea.”

“No. Don’t leave. Ever.”

His hands catch mine, and he moves away. “You need to sleep. I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek. I’m too weak to hold him there, and I curl up in a ball and wait. Listening for any noise. He’s always so quiet. What if he left? What if someone besides Max was waiting for him and he’s already dead?

Before I can imagine his grisly death, he’s in the doorway carrying a cup, blowing on it. He sets it on the nightstand and climbs back in bed. I immediately curl around him. He shifts us until I’m sitting between his legs, propped up against his chest. One arm encircles my waist, the other grabs the tea and steadies it while I drink.

“I increased the dosage,” he whispers. “Just enough to get you to sleep faster.”

The warmth of the tea courses through me, and I suddenly relax, lean against him. Our cheeks touch, and I increase the contact and rub against his face. “Thank you,” I whisper. I flutter lips over his cheek, and then his hand is taking the tea cup. We’re settled to the bed. Another kiss on my cheek.

And all is dark until morning.

I wake up to soft voices. I recognize Yunho’s. He’s still holding me.

“—someone named Xiah.”

I stiffen.

“Alma?” It’s Max.

“I’m okay,” I say, but don’t uncurl from Yunho.

“She must have been burying that pretty deeply for it to suddenly happen after a day without any attacks.”

Yunho’s tone is curious, and I can’t blame him. I doubt I explained anything clearly last night.

“She was very close to him,” Max says.

I shiver.

Yunho’s arms tighten.

“I don’t think this is helping her.”

“She won’t let me go,” Yunho replies.

“Then I’ll stay out of it, because Alma is stubborn.”

I sit up quickly to tell him off, but he’s already gone. I huff. Yunho laughs. I turn to him. He props up on an elbow. His smile slowly disappears as the staring contest continues. Am I looking for something? Not really. Just looking. Wondering. I really have no idea who he is, how he will be in battle, if I can have him fight at my side.

I’ve relegated him to soldier already.

I turn away, bring my knees up and set my head in my arms. He shifts behind me, his hand touches my back.

“Are you going to fight when we get back?” I ask.

“Of course.”

The images of his dead body are suddenly there. A laser slice on his neck, burn marks on his chest and legs. Brown eyes vacant. No smiles.

I want to make him promise me not to, but I won’t.

His hands slide down my arms, tangle with my fingers. I lean against him, head dropping to his shoulder. My fingers trail along his thigh. His arm encircles me, brings our bodies closer. Our cheeks touch again.

“I can’t promise you that I’ll survive,” Yunho whispers, “but you can’t promise me that either. You’re the one with the assassin after you.”

I laugh as my hand rises to touch his other cheek. He catches it and kisses the tips of my fingers.

“Max is right,” I say and rub against his neck. “This probably isn’t helping me.”

His lips quirk in a smile. He turns enough that his next words flutter against the side of my mouth. “Probably not.”

Our lips touch, barely, but only until I’ve turned fully to face him. With an arm at my waist and one at my shoulders, he lowers me to the bed, the kiss deepening on the way down. God, can he kiss. His tongue slides along my bottom lip. I whimper and open my mouth to him. My body arches into his, his hand slides under my t-shirt to bare skin. I fling a leg around him, pull our bodies together, fall against the bed, trapping his hand underneath us until I sit up. His hand moves up the shirt while mine grabs the bottom of his. Our lips part long enough for me to pull it over his head. And then again, when my shirt follows. Our skin presses together, and everything slows down. The kisses lengthen, the caresses soften.

Yunho pulls back, stares at me, waiting for something, I suppose.

So I smile. He flashes his dazzling smile at me, and things pick back up.

He makes love like he does everything else. With surety, humor. Softness backed by a promise of strength and power. He’s in control, something I don’t give up easily, or often, but I know that he’ll give me what I need. His body covers mine, arms bent on either side of my face. We’re sharing breaths between kisses.

He’s wonderfully consistent even with my nails digging into his shoulders as heat burns through my body. He shudders above me, losing his momentum in jerks. Our bodies relax together, mouths find each other for a long kiss. Holding himself up, must be too much for him, he moves, lowers his body along mine, his head on my chest.

Our breathing steadies in the quiet. He sighs, cuddles closer, and places a lazy kiss to the side of my breast.

“Give me about five minutes,” he says.

“How about we go take a shower instead?”

“Fabulous idea. You get up first.”

I laugh. I attempt to get him off me, but he rolls us over instead. More kisses. The five minutes pass.

We spend our day in bed, eventually getting up for a shower. Clothes are only put on when Max is scheduled to show up. His report is brief. He’s closer, but the assassin is being elusive, especially now that I haven’t left my apartment in six days.

“We’re going back tomorrow,” he says, “whether I’ve found him or not. This is getting too dangerous. He could take a shot at me, and I’d never see it coming.”

I nod. “Good idea.”

Yunho sighs, but smiles when I look over at him.

“This isn’t a vacation,” Max snaps.

“I know that,” Yunho says, still looking at me.

“You’re endangering her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Wait,” I say, cutting Max off. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Max spits and storms out.

I turn to Yunho. “What does he mean?”

“He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again. He loves you, you know.”

I turn back to the door. That first day, I thought my relationship with Max had been drifting. But now I realize that it’s been non-existent for a long time.

Yunho’s arms wrap around me. He kisses my neck. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

Sleep comes quickly and deeply. I wake up only once, when Yunho moves, and curl up more tightly against him.

But when I reach for him in the morning, he isn’t here.


	2. Moments of Change

After five minutes, I kick off the blankets. His clothes are still on the floor, so he can’t be far.

“Yunho?”

No answer.

Everything is quiet. My heart speeds up. I call for him again. I don’t dare leave the bedroom looking for him. I call Max on our secured channel.

“Yunho?”

“It’s Cati-Alma. Yunho isn’t here. I don’t know where he is. His clothes are here though, but he’s not answering when I call for him, and –“

Max comes through the bedroom door. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” My voice hitches.

“When did you last see him?”

“I woke up at about two and he was here, sleeping.”

Max takes in everything in the room. My clothes on the floor, Yunho’s clothes, the fact that I’m wrapped in a sheet.

“You two had sex.”

His tone makes me feel like a whore. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Get dressed. We’re leaving right now.”

“Max—“

“Did he tell you about KelJae?”

“He said they were close.”

“They were lovers. In love, he said. Look, KelJae found out more than your location when she tortured our other partner. She knows his combination and my combination.”

I gasp.

“She’s been probing into my brain for the last two weeks. If she had been hacking into it while I was touching you, she could have gotten us both. She didn’t even try to get into Yunho, that’s why he’s been helping you, but because of their relationship, she can get into Yunho’s head easily. I told him to start keeping his distance; I knew she’d try to eventually, but you’re still here. That means Yunho felt her push at his mind and got away from you as quickly as he could. It at least left you here.”

Am I breathing? No, gasp. I’m on my knees. Max is in just in front of me. “We don’t have time for this. Get up.”

“Yunho,” I whisper again.

His hand slices sharply against my cheek. “Snap out of it. Are you a fighter or not?”

I stare up at him, eyes stinging.

“For the love of Dong Bang, Alma, we have got to get out of here. Now.”

He hauls me to my feet, throws my clothes at me. I can’t see through my tears. Pants, yes, but not the shirt. I bypass mine and pull on Yunho’s black one.

Max rolls his eyes. He pulls out his communicator. “We’re coming aboard. Now. Yunho is missing, but I have a pretty good idea where he is.”

He grabs my arms.

Fluttering centers in my stomach, spreads to my limbs, as everything dissipates and reaffirms. When my feet are on solid ground again, I collapse.

Max’s voice starts barking orders. “Increase orbit speed. We need to do a thorough check for any other ShinKi vessel or ion trail. If we find one, we follow it. If not, we head home. She hasn’t transported in three years. Take her to medical bay.”

Hands help me up, but they aren’t Yunho’s hands. I’m escorted through hallways and tubes that are familiar, but I can’t remember being here. Sure, Alma has, but I haven’t. The gap between past and present widens. I’m lowered to a bed, something presses into my neck, and everything goes dark.

\------

Max is next to the bed when I wake up. I’m in a white gown, under a white blanket.

“Good. You’re awake. We’re following the ship we believe that KelJae is on, but they have a few hours head start and we have to go slow so we don’t miss their trail. It’s not going back to ShinKi. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

He stands, but I grab his hand. “Max, what happened to us? Why the distance?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for days. Tell me.”

“Tell you what? That your drive and need to be the top of everything even meant that your relationships suffered? That you stopped returning my calls long before I stopped wasting my time calling? That –”

“I’m not that person any more.”

He scoffs.

“I’m not. It’s like, this girl that’s in my head that has all these memories. She isn’t me, Max. She isn’t me anymore.”

He pulls his hand free and turns around.

“I’ve always loved you,” I say before he leaves. “No matter how I’ve treated you.”

He stops. His shoulders rise in a deep breath. “I know. Check the top drawer. I told them not to wash it. I’ll send the doctor in to release you, and then I expect you to be on the bridge.”

The door slides closed behind him.

The top drawer.

Clothes. Yunho’s shirt. I pick it up, breathe in his smell. The love I hold for Max is not the same as that for Yunho. I can’t even call what I feel for Yunho as love. But I know he’s not expendable. The strategic side of my brain knows that we’re flying into a trap, but I don’t care. I can’t think of anybody as a tool any more. I won’t be that cold woman in my memories. And Yunho helped me. If I do what she wants and count him as a loss, I can never forgive myself.

The doctor comes in, waves his instruments in front of me, advises me to rest. I wave him away. I dress in the black pants provided, but bypass the tunic that will fit me. I pull on Yunho’s shirt and tie the loose fabric into a knot at the small of my back. Black boots. Everything is black. Easier to hide in ShinKi city streets.

There’s a peon waiting outside the door for me. He salutes, fist to his shoulder. “Commander Chang said that you might need an escort.”

“Thank you,” I reply, and it startles him. The other me wasn’t so gracious “Lead the way.”

As we walk, I recognize patterns and know that next time I can find it on my own.

A door slides up in front of me. The peon allows me through, salutes again and goes back the other way.

The bridge is pristine. The three command chairs are empty. Three lieutenants sit at different consoles. I only recognize one of them. She’s short, with long blonde hair pulled up. Max stands behind her, a hand on her shoulder. I grin, remembering when Max first met Lexy. They never got along, constantly argued and contradicted each other, but they grew closer and closer. My heart constricts. They grew closer as Max and I drifted apart. I remember being jealous of Lexy, but that still didn’t get me to contact Max. I suffered through it.

I hide my grin, somehow knowing that their relationship was a lot more serious than it was three years ago. “Commander Chang, an update, please.”

Max salutes. His eyes rove my body and he smirks at my outfit. He and the others are in regulation uniforms. “We’re still in pursuit.”

“Where are we?”

“Toho. The trail is slowing, so we’re assuming they’re in this area. If KelJae follows her previous behaviors, she’ll contact us as soon as she spots us.”

“What about backup?”

“They’re on their way. They should be here in a half hour.”

“We could be dead by then.”

“Doubtful. You could easily stall her for that long.”

I smile. “True.” I sit in the middle chair and cross my legs. Arms resting on the armrests. Sitting up straight. The mannerisms are familiar to my body, but I’m uncomfortable. I do not slouch though. I watch the stars through the port. I’m in my element here, command of a ship, but I also have my own fighter for aerial battles. And taser, lasers, guns and knives for closer battles. And my own hands and feet if the fights are even closer.

As we wait for the inevitable, I remember who I used to be. The coldness, the detachment, the strategic thinking. I can still do that. I have to still be able to do that. I can still fight. But, I sort of don’t want to anymore. Who am I right now?

“Ah, Alma, so good to see you after all these years.”

The viewport flickers and is replaced with the bridge of another ship. I keep my eyes trained on the woman taking up the most of it, but I notice the naked body that is only half in the screen.

KelJae is pretty. Evil women geniuses usually are. Her brown hair is twisted up around her head. She doesn’t wear a uniform, but a poison green dress.

“I would have been happy to never see you again. That color looks terrible on you.”

KelJae laughs. “And you, as always, in black. You need more color. Blood would look good. See how pretty it is against skin?” She motions toward the body, but I don’t look until she moves. I can’t help it.

Yunho is conscious, but his eyes are shut and face pinched in pain. He is suspended about two feet from the floor, spread eagle, with gravity cuffs at his wrists and ankles. Blood drips from thin slices on his chest and stomach. There are burn marks on various body parts. She walks around him, leaving trails of blood with her fingers. She grabs his chin. He tries to jerk away, but the metal shackles hold him in place. She leaves bloody smudges on his face.

“So pretty,” she coos and kisses him. Yunho bites her lips. She slaps him. “Isn’t he pretty, Alma?”

“Not really,” I reply.

She smiles at me. “And what about last night?”

I shrug. “He’s a good lay.”

She laughs again. “Oh, I know. My favorite lover. And then he had to betray us. Treasonous whelp.”

She presses a taser to his leg, his body jerks in its shackles. As the seconds drag on, it’s harder and harder to keep my face calm. Finally, she stops.

“So you’ve come to bargain for him?” she asks.

I need every bit of Alma’s coldness I can muster to laugh. “Are you kidding? You left an obvious trail for us to follow. As soon as you’re within our weapons range, consider yourself dead.”

“And dear Yunho with me.”

“Just another body.” I’m screaming in my head that it’s not true, not true!

“Commander,” Lexy says, “we have a position.”

I turn my back on the view screen. “Cut the connection. Increase speed. Are there any other ships around her?”

“Not that we can see, but she’s not stupid, she’ll have backup cloaked.”

“And where is our fleet?”

“Ten minutes for them to catch up.”

I turn with a grin to Max.

“What’s your plan?” he asks.

“Right now, I’m not quite sure. I’m a little rusty on battle tactics. Something tells me that there are ships cloaked out there, and we’ll have dogfight on our hands. How many pilots do we have?”

“A full squadron is already awaiting orders.”

“Shall we join them?”

Max shivers. “I never thought I’d see that gleam in your eye again. Yoochun, you have command.”

“Don’t fire anything until you get a direct order from me,” I say. “Put all energy into the shields until then.”

“Yes, Commanders.”

I lead the way out of the bridge.

“Um, Alma, what’s your brain thinking? I hate it when you wing it like this.”

“Right now, nothing matters until I know which ship Yunho is on.”

“So you do plan on saving him?” The surprise in his voice makes me stop.

“Of course. I told you that I’m not that woman anymore. Alma wouldn’t have cared, but I do.”

“And how do you plan on finding out which ship Yunho is on?”

“You know his combination?”

He doesn’t answer, but that’s enough.

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Look, I find him the way that KelJae found him. I’m sure that you haven’t been as close to him as I have. Unless you’re not telling me something?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I can connect with him. Please, Max. He’s not just a casualty; he’s not just a means of finally destroying KelJae.”

“What am I?”

I frown. He’s not looking at me anymore. There’s so much hurt in him. And I remember never calling him, never even calling him Max. He was always Commander Chang. He didn’t drift away from me; I drifted from him. It was better if I wasn’t close to anyone. After Xiah, it was even more important that I never let anyone close again.

I step into him, and he stiffens. “I’m sorry, Max. For all of it. I promise I’m not like that anymore. I can’t stand to see you in pain.” My arms snake around his waist, and I rest my head on his chest. “I’ll be better, but promise me that you will be too.”

He finally holds me. “I promise.”

We stand there until his communicator beeps. “Commander Chang,” Yoochun’s voice says, “there are nine enemy ships. Ours will be here momentarily.”

I step away.

“Understood,” he says. “Be sure to tell them to launch their squadrons as soon as they get here.”

We continue walking, but I notice that he’s standing closer to me. He suddenly rattles off a long series of numbers.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

As we enter a wide door, all activity in the room beyond stops. Pilots next to their fliers salute and bow. Two privates run over carrying flight suits.

As we suit up, Max says, “We have nine enemy ships. Unknown number of fighters. Your orders in the air will come directly from Commander Choi.”

“Yes, sir.”

I scramble up the ladder to the cockpit. I strap in, connect my oxygen and begin the launching sequence. I giggle.

“What?” Max’s voice says from my helmet.

I look over at him in his fighter. “Just wondering how Karisa would react to seeing me right now.”

“Concentrate, Commander.”

I salute him and then give the command to launch. Our twenty fighters emerge. The enemy fighters head to us immediately. We’re outnumbered at the moment, but it’ll be easy to maneuver around them. As they fly closer, I can tell they’re pretty inexperienced.

“Cover me for a moment,” I say. I shut my eyes, remember last night with Yunho, the last five days. Everything he’s done for me. The series of numbers that Max said runs through my mind. Again and again. Maybe last night wasn’t enough. Not enough, and we’ll have to destroy them all.

_No. Yunho, please, let me know where you are._

Again. The numbers again. Just as I’m thinking I have them wrong, I feel something. It’s tired and hurt and aching, but it’s there. I throw my eyes open.

“He’s on the Tru323. Janehy, take your group and disable her. Lieutenant Yoochun, concentrate all fire power on the other ships.”

“Fighters coming in,” Max says.

The Catie in me is freaking out, but I twist, zoom, and fire off shots through the air like I’ve been doing this my whole life. A renegade gets a bit too close to Max, and I take him out, the fighter spinning through the air. The rebel ships fire randomly, but they’re outgunned and outclassed. Three of them are gone seconds after my first command. The Tru323 is vainly trying to limp away. The J group keeps it covered, firing warning shots.

“Commander Choi, Tru323 shields are gone and weapons destroyed.”

“Good job, J group. Max, you coming with me?”

“You bet.”

“Lieutenant Yoochun, lock the Tru323 in a tractor beam. I want a contingent of fifty men to board her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All squadrons make sure there are no more threats. Take survivors where you can, but no one escapes.”

Series of affirmations come back.

Max and I make our way back to the ship. We disembark and walk through tiers of soldiers. They follow us out, towards the docking bay where the Tru323 will be loaded.

“Just so you know,” Max says, “you’ve never left any survivors.”

“I remember.”

We wait as the battered ship is pulled into bay. The airlock closes, and we get the green all clear to enter.

I shut my eyes and whisper just so Max hears it, “What if he’s already dead?”

“Then we take it out of her skin.” He turns and shouts to the crowd. “Guard formation. Two teams up front. Lasers ready. I want a cannon at that door now. Be prepared for enemy fire. We don’t know how many are in there.”

“Commander.”

Someone puts a gun in my hand. The heft is familiar. “Thanks,” I reply.

Max adjusts the dials on his. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Go!”

The soldiers … no, my men and women. My soldiers move forward. They’re two deep in front of me. The cannon takes the door out in one shot. Blue laser bolts rip through the smoke. One of my men falls. The first few duck against the door and return fire. Shouts come back from the front. They aren’t well armed. Half that we can see have fallen. Another volley of return fire, and my soldiers enter the ship.

The wave of soldiers pushes us forward.

“I want the entire ship searched,” Max is saying. “Commander? Prisoners?”

“Yeah. Don’t kill them unless you have to.”

“Take all prisoners to the docking bay. We’re heading to the bridge. If someone else finds KelJae or Lieutenant Jung, call us.”

“Who’s Lieutenant Jung?” I whisper as we walk down the hall.

Max actually smiles. “Seriously?”

“Wha—oh. Oh. His family name is Jung?”

“I take it you two didn’t talk much.”

I give him a shove.

We slow as we approach the bridge. Max uses hand signals, and the key panel is destroyed. Two men grip the door and force it open. Four guns enter first.

“It’s empty, Commanders.”

Max and I go in anyway. The soldiers make a sweep of the place.

“I want all data transmission, plans, details, anything you can get out of these computers,” I order.

“Yes, Commander.”

I turn to Max. “So now where?”

“If you had a nice little play thing, where would you take it?”

I shut my eyes and sigh. “Yoochun, where are KelJae’s private rooms?”

He hits some keys on the console. “Uh, looks like East wing, floor 12.”

“Half of you stay here, the other half come with us.”

I really am trying to breathe as we walk. Trying to pull up Alma’s coolness but I can’t. I know I’m gasping. Max grabs my hand. He motions for everyone else to stop and pulls me ahead a bit.

“This isn’t going to help him.”

“I know but I keep picturing what we’re going to find and—”

“We’re going to find KelJae. We’re going to end her, and crush this rebellion once and for all. You were always the best at thinking big picture. And if we can save Yunho in the meantime, then good.”

“I can’t think like that anymore, Max. I just can’t. We’re going to save Yunho, and if we end KelJae in the meantime, then good.”

Max smiles. “It’s about time you’ve got your priorities straight.”

I don’t care who’s watching, and I give him a hug. “It’s good to see you smile. Let’s go get him.”

We pass a lot of our men on the way. Some are guarding hostages, but most of them say the ship is rather empty.

We take an elevator to the twelfth floor. The doors slide open. Without warning, blue lasers streak in. I’m dimly aware that Max is no longer next to me. My gun is in my hand, returning fire. Everything slows. I aim, fire, another falls, and then another, and another. Only ten seconds pass. And then everything stops. Four men rush past me to make sure the room is clear.

I look down. Max is there, hand pressed against his smoking arm. There’s already someone tending it.

“You alright?” I ask.

“I will be.” He bats the guy’s hands away. “All it did was graze me. It stings more than anything. Just bandage it up.”

“Commander,” a lackey says, and salutes. “The outer room is clear. Should we go room to room?”

“No. I won’t be surprised again.” I shut my eyes, take a deep breath, and think of Yunho again.

_How did I not know your family name was Jung? Your favorite color is red. Your favorite food is black rice noodles and beef. You learned to play poker solely out of boredom._

I start chanting his combination again. It’s easier to pick him up, and I almost lose him when I feel the pain running through his body. I fall to my knees.

“I’m coming,” I whisper. “Hold on.”

Max helps me up. I’m gasping, drawing in mouthfuls of air.

“He’s in there,” I say and point toward one of the five doors.

The soldiers surge. The panel is destroyed. The first man in front of the door goes down, but the others are there taking out the threats.

KelJae is hiding behind Yunho’s body. A knife at this throat. “Now what?” she sings.

She’s changed clothes. Now she wears a light blue nightgown. Covered in blood spatters.

“The green dress just wasn’t right for a fight, was it?” I ask.

I risk a glance at Yunho and just barely distance myself from it. He’s still suspended, spread eagle, by the gravity cuffs on his wrists and ankles. The cuts are deeper. There are more of them. His hair is matted with blood.

“If your men keep circling, I’m going to slit his throat.”

Max waves them still.

“Ooh, have you become soft, Alma?”

“Not soft enough that I won’t kill you as soon as I get the chance.”

And I know I’ll get it. I know that she’ll get cocky. She’ll give me an opportunity.

“Why don’t you just surrender?” I ask. “Your rebellion is crushed. Your fleet has been destroyed.”

“There will be other leaders. You can’t silence the desires in the heart.”

“You’re all just a bunch of arrogant, spoiled brats.”

“We fight for what we believe in. Your government takes away our rights by oppressing–”

I tune her out, eyes searching, searching. Right there.

I lower the gun. A red stream streaks past Yunho’s knee and hits KelJae in the leg. She screams. The knife misses Yunho’s neck but digs into his shoulder and down his back as she falls. I’m there, behind them, barrel against her head, but Alma pulls the trigger.

“We need a medical team up here as soon as possible,” Max says. “Yesterday would be good.”

“On its way, Commander.”

I tear my eyes away from KelJae’s charred beauty. The others are working on taking the gravity cuffs off Yunho’s body but keeping him up and not injuring him further. His eyes open and focus on me. I know he’s trying to smile. His body suddenly crumples, and they lower him to the floor. He’s groaning. I kneel next to him and grab his hand.

“Help is coming,” I whisper and place a kiss on his forehead.

He squeezes my hand.

Max kneels next to me. “Damn it, Yunho. I told you so, right? I know, I know, you can’t help who you fall in love with, but I did tell you this was going to happen.”

Yunho exhales, like he tried to laugh, and then winces in pain.

“Leave him alone,” I say. “You can give him the ‘I told you so’ speech later.”

Max puts an arm around me. I settle my head on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

I smile down at Yunho. “As soon as he’s okay, I will be.”

Yunho squeezes my hand again. He coughs, and then I barely hear him say, “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Yeah.”

The medical staff arrives, and Max pulls me away. They stabilize Yunho on a stretcher and whisk him away.

“He’ll be alright,” one of them says to me. “Most of these are superficial cuts.”

“I have to get back to the bridge, and call Central and tell them KelJae is dead. We really have to get the underground groups rounded up before these people get another leader.”

Max nods. “Yeah, now that we don’t have to follow KelJae across space, we can concentrate on things at home.”

“You need to get your arm looked at.”

“It’s fine.”

I shake my head. “Sorry. Commander Chang. That’s a direct order.”

“You know we’re the same rank, right?”

“Yes, but you’re a stubborn male who needs to be looked after and told what to do.”

Max sighs. “It’s good to have you back, Almy. I missed you.”

He turns away and leaves the room before I can reply. I think about it for a moment and realize that he means more than the last three years. He hasn’t called me Almy since we were twelve.

With messages sent, orders given and received, we set a course for home. I leave the bridge under Yoochun’s care and head to the medical bay. Max sits in a chair next to Yunho’s bed.

Yunho is sitting up. Laughing. Smiling.

I shut my eyes in relief. I half walk to him, eyes tracing the healing scars on his chest. Tears track down my cheeks.

“Why is she crying?” Yunho says.

Max shrugs.

“Why are you crying?” Yunho asks me as I fall to my knees next to his bed.

I grab his hand. “You’re alive.”

“And you’re sad about that?”

“Very.” My voice breaks. He smiles down at me. I rise up enough to kiss him.

He pulls away. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Well, we’re not going to be sequestered in a room together anymore. You’ll have more choices and—”

I shake my head. “Pick you every time.”

“Believe her,” Max says. “She’s incredibly stubborn.”

“And you’re not? It’s why Lexy loves you so much.”

He grins. “I was wondering if you remembered about that.”

“Yeah. She’s good for you.”

Max rises. “I’ll leave you two alone, but Almy, let him at least get one day of recovery in before you’re demanding things of his body.”

Yunho pulls me closer. Eyes boring into mine, arm snaking around my waist. “Oh, baby, demand things of this body.”

My laughter is cut off as our lips meet.


End file.
